


just stay by my side, so i can be by yours

by WinchesterBurger



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Accidental Drabble, Angst, Daryl's full of love, Falling In Love, He just wants his family to be happy, Holding Hands, Love, M/M, and he misses them all, mental pain, others characters mentioned - Freeform, rickyl only mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-16 17:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16499471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinchesterBurger/pseuds/WinchesterBurger
Summary: There was hope. Small and fragile, but still hope.[Spoiler alert for episode 2, season 9. Missing scene after amputation of Aaron's arm.]





	just stay by my side, so i can be by yours

**Author's Note:**

> I'm busy writing a fic for DBH fandom challenge, but The Walking Dead keeps giving me feels and I'm hella broken because of it. This fic is kind of therapy for me before we get to lose another character - do they feel like family members to you, too?
> 
> No beta. Read, like, twice. I'm not a native speaker, so any help will be great. Thank you!

 

The need to hold Aaron’s hand was overwhelming, but Daryl was good at denying himself good things. He learned it well, during all these years by Rick’s side when Grimes’ happiness was never Daryl’s. He got better and better in it until Michonne’s kisses never felt as bad as Lori’s once did and finally, he was able to feel content, even if it was flavored with bitterness.  
  
Aaron’s face was incredibly pale, his forehead adorned with droplets of sweat and chest barely moving. But the breath was there all the time, always slow and shallow, but it never fell. Daryl didn’t want to imagine what would happen if it did. What he would have to do and how much it would hurt. The world of _what ifs_ was hard and hostile and he didn’t want to enter it. At least not now, while there was still a chance. Hope. Small and fragile, but it was still hope.  
  
His rough hand travelled from his knee to the bedding, from the bedding to Aaron’s shoulder. He didn’t dare touching the fresh stump – in fear of causing Aaron pain; and in fear of his own limits. Daryl wasn’t sure how much he could bear before tears would make their way to his eyes. The last time he cried was after Carl had died, the boy he helped raise and loved. He didn’t let anyone see it, except of Judith, but there was no possibility she would remember. She cried too, back then, and it felt good to let it all out with her in his arms, her little hands curled around his neck; evidence she trusted him as much as she trusted her parents and brother. But now, there was no one for him there. Their paths had divided and he was left all alone with his worries.  
  
Thinking of old times made Daryl’s heart twist in pain. He remembered well the nights on the road among his friends, sitting together by the fire and exchanging secrets of their past lives, travelling through endless forests and countless towns before any shelter appeared on the horizon. It was dangerous back then, but good. They felt like they could do everything, fight everyone. It was only then when he felt his heart full of love for people that he wouldn’t get to know if the undead wouldn’t have happened. He never let anyone see it, yet he loved them. All of them.  
  
Maybe he should have told them in those days, admit how much they mattered to him. How much they changed him for the better. Some nights it would haunt him that so many of his friends died and even more of them still lived without this knowledge, but as he got a chance to see them – Maggie, Carol, Tara and all these faces with smiles on them – he knew it wasn’t necessary. They knew him. He didn’t need to say a word.  
  
When Rick appeared to see Aaron and talk to him, Daryl didn’t even look him in the eye. He ducked his head as low as he could, allowing his long hair to hide the sadness, and only nodded to his friend as he exited the tent and gave the men needed privacy. It was dark outside, the fire set in the middle of the camp casted a rich glow over the tents and brought warmness to Daryl’s heart. He wasn’t angry anymore – just numb and tired. All he wanted was to sit down and rest, close enough to Aaron to make sure his state was stable through the night and close enough to the rest of his friends – the sound of their laughs and voices was soothing the cold feeling in his stomach.  
  
As soon as Daryl came back inside the hospital tent, he realized that Aaron was still conscious. Apparently, the conversation with Rick awakened him more than they all expected.  
  
“It’s you,” his voice was weak, but the man was smiling; how, Daryl never knew. Aaron was too optimistic for this world. After all he had lost, he still was.  
  
“Yeah,” Daryl grumbled, sitting down on the stool and slouching a little like he always did. His eyes didn’t leave Aaron though, even as his hair covered his face again, and he was aware that Aaron noticed. He was the observing type of guy.  
  
“You look awful,” he whispered and rattled. It took Daryl a few seconds to realize it was an actual laugh. He didn’t respond, and soon Aaron’s breath calmed down. “You really should catch a couple hours of sleep.”  
  
“‘m fine,” Daryl replied, seizing the lines of Aaron’s face. The beard added some handsome harshness to his features, made him look more badass. Daryl would’ve lied if he said he didn’t like it.  
  
“Does it mean you’ll stay?”  
  
“Didn’t plan on leaving.”  
  
“Good.”  
  
Aaron reached his right hand – the only hand now, Daryl realized – above his chest and held it out. The crossbowman was either too stunned or too rough to understand why. The other man rolled his eyes despite the tiredness on his face and smiled widely, showing dimples in his cheeks.  
  
“Just take it, moron.”  
  
So he did. Aaron’s hand was warm and softer than his, gentler. The man’s fingers grazed Daryl’s for several seconds before they settled between them and grasped, seeking affection Daryl didn’t know if he was able to give him. It turned out that he was, or even if not, the touch was enough, because Aaron’s face lit up in a tender smile. He didn’t say anything nor did Daryl, however they both felt no need to. The silence that fell upon them was comfortable, nearly cozy, and allowed Daryl to sort of rest. It almost didn’t hurt anymore; when Daryl thought about Glenn, it didn’t hurt as much as it did before. Memories of him and Abraham, of Carl, Beth and Merle were sorrowful, yes. That would never change. But along them was hope, delicate and faint, but hope nonetheless.

 


End file.
